


Tears

by cress26



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, scene fix for 4x16
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-05-11
Packaged: 2018-10-30 16:43:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10880829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cress26/pseuds/cress26
Summary: For as long as she could remember he’d always soothed her with words, his physical comfort guaranteed and steady. Turning away from her was new and it stung - more than she thought possible.





	Tears

**Author's Note:**

> Fix for the car scene in 4x16.   
> I actually cheered when Red just for once rejected Liz when she cried in his car. But my poor Lizzington heart couldn't let that stand.   
> Thank you to heatherpeters for the beta :)

Red stormed from Isabella’s house, tersely giving Baz directions, before entering the vehicle.

“Reddington, tell me, what’s going on?!”

Liz ran after him, confused and scared, begging to know what he had found out about Dembe, but he pointedly ignored her, as she followed him into the car.

######

They sat in silence together for a long time. The wide road stretched ahead of them through bleak woods.

Red stared into nothingness, numbed by what he’d heard. This couldn’t be and yet it all suddenly made sense.

Liz was visibly anxious beside him. She'd never seen him so troubled and defeated. His eyes, that expression on his face, he was clearly agonizing over the revelation.

He kept looking out of the window and finally spoke, his voice hoarse and trembling and much deeper than usual.

“A man's greatest enemy is the dark forces pent up within himself. But not for me.

“My dark forces had a name. A person I entrusted with the most heinous offenses of my life. Every trespass I committed, expunged. Cleansed as if it had never happened.

“My confessor who doth now condemn me.”

The pain in his voice was palpable. Liz quietly listened to him, deeply moved by his words and demeanor.

“What are you talking about?”

He broke his gaze away from the window but he still wouldn’t look at her.

“Kathryn Nemec.”

“Who is Kathryn Nemec?”

“A name that came to represent my darkest hours. My friend…” He paused, worked his mouth and swallowed hard. “Mr. Kaplan.”

Two large, limpid tears slid down Liz’s smooth cheeks when she finally understood.

“Mr. Kaplan? She's alive?”

“When I pulled the trigger, I left without checking.

“I would never have been so careless if …there wasn't a part of me that wished I hadn't done what I had just done.”

More tears fell down Liz’s cheeks. She still couldn’t believe he’d shot Kate for the betrayal.

“It's been her all along. Retribution for what I did to her.”

Liz closed her eyes at the waves of guilt wrecking her features. She knew she’d been responsible for the deadly outcome as well.

“Can the score be even now? Can this be over?”

It was far from over. The conflict with Mr. Kaplan hadn’t even started and yet, things could get really nasty, very quickly and Liz knew this too.

She wiped at her tears, unsuccessful at stopping the flow.

“All I know is… I need to find Dembe.”

It was heartbreaking to watch her cry so deeply, and yet Red turned away from her to stare out the window. For once this wasn’t about her.

“He’s the only person I have left.”

For as long as she could remember he’d always soothed her with words, his physical comfort guaranteed and steady. Turning away from her was new and it stung - more than she thought possible.

So this was what it had come down to.

Almost a year had passed since she’d faked her death. A year in which she had kept him at arm’s length, prevented every reconnection and openly dismissed his presence for bringing order to the chaos of her life. All this only to discover that she’d maneuvered herself into an even greater mess than before. And now, her life lay in ruins around her; she was more exhausted and helpless than she ever had.

The realization of taking the blame from Red, that none of it was his fault, certainly was difficult to acknowledge. 

He’d still save her life if necessary, but gradually they’d drifted apart, and ultimately, their special bond was lost. Their closeness had been replaced with distance and awkwardness and her fierce and wrongful attitude didn’t help the matter. It just rendered everything that was left more and more complicated.

She took a moment to look at him. When had he lost so much weight? He appeared equally exhausted: He had dark heavy bags under his eyes and wrinkles she’d not seen before. The love for life in his eyes had vanished, his youthful smile extinguished. Liz thought he looked frail, almost broken and unfortunately that was probably all her fault too. 

She looked at his tie. Tiny yellow squared circles on a bed of dark blue silk. He’d worn it for the first time when he had come to the church and pleaded with her not to marry Tom. He’d worn it when he had disrupted the wedding ceremony and all the way through the following shooting. He’d worn it when she had given birth to Agnes. And it was the last thing she’d seen on him before she’d closed her eyes to put the awful plan to get away from him in motion.

This particular tie had become a symbol for the betrayal and an expression for his hurt and suffering. A constant reminder what she did. He wore it often and it made her feel like she couldn’t breathe.

Seeing it on him now, she was filled with regret and overcome with the errors of her ways. Her tears were still falling, her face holding remorse.

“I never wanted any of this to happen, none of this.”

“You could have come to me, talked to me.”

“I did, Red, but you didn’t listen.”

“I can't account for what I've done in the past, let alone atone for it. I’ve always just tried to keep you safe. And I have – all these years.”

“I felt it wasn’t enough.”

Straightened, he finally turned to look at her, regarding her with incomprehension.

“But putting me through… _this_ …”

“I thought it was the only way out.”

“You died, Elizabeth. I was there, suffering every moment with you, feeling as if my heart was being ripped from my chest. I watched you - I watched you die.”

He paused and his mouth worked as if he was chewing on the words that tasted too bitter to swallow.

“I watched you die, Lizzie.” He rasped brokenly. “And if you thought it wouldn’t matter to me, you were wrong.”

His face was pale, his breathing troubled; he seemed bereft as desolation and pain seeped into his being. He removed his sunglasses and closed his eyes when a single tear escaped.

To see him weep, literally shattered, shook her from her stupor. She scooted closer next to him. Guilt-ridden and anguished she placed a hand on each side of his face, wishing she could take everything back.

Was any of this fixable? At all?

Red closed his eyes and leaned into her touch, while silent tears spilled down his cheeks. She’d never seen him like this, his vulnerability and the depth of his sorrow broke her heart in two.

Reaching out, he placed a light hand on her hip and tugged her closer. She immediately slid into his embrace and threw a leg over him, settling onto his lap and putting her head on his shoulder. His arms wrapped tightly around her waist, holding her to him as she melted against him.

Breathing hard, his body shuddered in the throes of grief. The sound that escaped his lips was raw and mournful.

Hot excruciating tears flowed from him like poison; her own eyes filled and overflowed along with him, as she stroked his head and shoulders, whispering over and over again:

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Red.”

And she really was.

######

How long they cried together, she couldn’t fathom. Two minutes? Ten? An hour?

It was a moment out of time. The most intimate moment with him she’d ever experienced and the saddest moment she’d ever known.

Had she really meant that much to him that he still mourned her loss? Was his love for her even the reason that she hadn’t been executed alongside Mr. Kaplan?

He dragged in a deep breath and exhaled, then finally quieted and relaxed under her. Tension left his body and she rested her forehead against his, not willing to break the contact just yet.

The realization hit her hard and fast: She’d missed him and nothing had felt this right in a very long time.

“Your last words before … before you …”

He couldn’t say it, couldn’t relive the memory.

“Did you mean them? ... Or was that just something to make me feel better?”

His voice was still rough and uneven; the trepidation in his eyes made her think he expected to hear the worst. 

“I meant them,” she murmured, surprised how easy she could admit her true feelings, how easy she could come out of denial.

“I still do. I just can't …”

He shook his head, didn’t let her finish.

“Then that’s all I need to know.”

She remained cuddled against him a while longer, relished in their newfound closeness and tenderness together.

Maybe he could forgive her. Maybe all wasn’t lost after all.

She finally nodded, gave his neck a last squeeze, and climbed down from his lap to sit beside him.

She took his hand and looked at him.

“Now, let’s find Dembe.”

For the first time in a long time, he smiled.

The End


End file.
